But when he returned, the room was finished and Bibi was gone. Chad peered out the window to see Bibi heading down North Beach Street toward the ferry with her backpack slung over her shoulder. He was sorry she’d left—he’d brought a slider up for her—but also relieved that he’d survived another day with her.
“Did either of you see a black-and-gold scarf?” Ms. English asks. “Because Mrs. Daley is sure she left one behind. She sent a picture of herself wearing it at Ventuno and she says it’s not in her luggage. Did you find it and put it in the lost and found?” Ms. English pauses. “Did you perhaps mean to put it in the lost and found and forget to?”
She’s giving Bibi a way out, Chad thinks. Because Bibi definitely lifted that scarf.
“I didn’t see any scarves,” Bibi says in a clear, steady voice that sounds so genuine, Chad believes her. “Did you, Long Shot?”
“No,” he says. “And we checked all the drawers like we were supposed to.”
“Yes, I double-checked as well,” Ms. English says. She studies their faces. Ms. English is a handsome woman who has never been anything but nice to Chad; even when she made him fold a hand towel for the sixtieth time, he felt like she was doing it for his own good. She has high standards and a dignity that Chad respects. He does not want to disappoint her.
“Did you look in the laundry?” Bibi asks. “Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Daley were using the scarf in bed—you know, to tie each other up—and it got mixed in with the sheets.”
“Of course I’ve checked the laundry,” Ms. English says. She clears her throat. “I understand how tempting it is when you see something you covet and you think the guest has so many things that she might not miss something like a scarf…”
“It sounds like you’re accusing us of taking it,” Bibi says. “Which is not only insulting, it’s absurd. Chadwick has family money, plus a dude would have no use for a woman’s scarf. And I would never take it, because scarves like that are for boomers. Sorry, for older women. Plus I wouldn’t be able to tell a Fendi scarf from a Walmart scarf.”
That’s a lie, Chad thinks. Bibi loves designer stuff. She makes a game of identifying the designers of bags, belts, and shoes without checking the labels—Chloé, Balenciaga, Louboutin—and she’s always right.
Bibi says, “Besides, I would never steal from a guest. I have a baby at home. I’m a mother.” She pauses. “Did you ask Octavia and Neves if they’ve seen it?”
Chad lowers his gaze to the floor. He can’t believe she’s going there.
“The scarf was missing from room one oh five,” Ms. English says. “That was your room to clean.”
“But they each have a master key,” Bibi says. “It’s not impossible that they took it and tried to make it look like it was us. They have some kind of weird grudge against me that you should be aware of.”
Ms. English is quiet. Chad is quiet. Bibi isn’t speaking but there’s a lot of disruption emanating from her. Or maybe Chad is projecting.
“I’ll let Mrs. Daley know that we haven’t found it but that we’ll keep looking,” Ms. English says. “Maybe it’s in Mr. Daley’s luggage or perhaps she took it off while she was out and left it somewhere. But I do hope nothing else goes missing.”
Chad and Bibi take their cart up to room 307 in silence. Bibi doesn’t touch anything in the room, and she offers to clean the bathroom and do the flowers, which, Chad realizes, is as close to an admission of guilt as he’s going to get.
9. The Cobblestone Telegraph
The summer season is under way on the island and most of us are too busy with our own lives—tracking down the window washer, mulching our gardens, pulling our beach chairs out of storage—to pay attention to the happenings at the Hotel Nantucket. But every once in a while, we’ll drive past and see Zeke English standing on the sidewalk in front of the hotel with a pit bull on a leash sniffing the dandelions, and we’ll wonder how things are going.
Blond Sharon is having dinner at the Deck one evening when JJ O’Malley himself pops out to say hello. Blond Sharon does the intrepid thing and asks if he’s heard how Lizbet likes her new job.
“No, I haven’t,” JJ says. “We don’t speak.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s busy,” Blond Sharon says. “Have you eaten at the Blue Bar yet? Everyone’s raving about it. They have a copper disco ball that drops—”